her heartbeat on that day and about the fact that it had stopped for a moment or two.
In effect she should be dead.
She looked at Ben and tried to establish a concrete emotion towards him. Did she like him? Did she lust after him? Did she even really know him? She shouldnât be thinking of these things. He was with Ashleigh . . . not even interested in her.
What was that irritating noise?
Thump, thump, thump
. She switched her attention away from her thoughts and listened. It was the kid from two doors up, bouncing a ball against a wall.
She grimaced again, completely disregarding the conversation going on around her. There was nothing unusual about being capable of hearing that far . . . if she were an elephant.
She wouldnât let go of the belief that she was normal, not just yet. She didnât want to face the rising questions and the feeling of impending doom they brought with them, not just yet. Not just yet.
It looked as if Ben had finished his retelling of the eveningâs events; he and Rosemary were looking at her anxiously.
âWhat?â she snapped. âI fainted. Thatâs all.â
She moved in a straight line through the front door and down the hall, not looking back. She didnât even say thanks to Ben for walking her home. She was too annoyed. Why had Rosemary gone to school to tell everyone to stay away? Was she embarrassed?
Kara heard the click of the front door behind her and the soft footfalls of Rosemary as she moved along the hallway into the kitchen.
The countertop was covered in flour, the sink overflowing with dirty dishes. The smell of chocolate orange muffins enveloped her, so delicious. But Kara wasnât interested.
She wanted to fight.
âAre you ââ began Rosemary but Kara cut her off.
âWhat the hell did you do? You went to my school and told my friends to leave me alone?â
âExcuse me?â Rosemary stood in the doorway, her floured hand on her hips.
âYou went to the principal. Itâs because of you that no one came to see me? Because of you I have no friends!â Kara knew that this was a slight exaggeration, but she didnât care. She was saying the words loudly, on the cusp of a shout. She could feel the anger rolling inside her, stirring itself up. The heat of it was intoxicating.
âI have no idea what youâre talking about. I went to the school, yes, but the principal was busy. I didnât speak to anyone. Only Ashleigh.â
âAshleigh?â
âYes, I met her outside the office. She kindly delivered a note to the principal for me.â
Kara walked to the countertop, leaning against it.
âWhat is all this about, Kara?â Rosemary went to the sink, stacking dishes ready to be washed. âAre you on drugs?â She untied the strings of her apron, turning slowly. âI mean if you were on drugs then that would explain your behaviour these last eighteen months, even the . . .â She stopped, her voice faltering.
âEven the what?â pressed Kara, knowing where this vein of conversation would lead.
âEven the incident with the coronerâs report.â
âThat was not an incident, Rosemary.â Kara laboured over her name, dragging the syllables out, one after the other. âThat was me standing up for my father, challenging the lies in that report. But all you wanted to do was shut me up, have me fixed. You and that counsellor, convincing me that I was stupid, that I was just
grieving
. I should never have listened to you. Dad would never . . .â
âKara, please.â
âNo. Donât you
please
me. You want to have this conversation now, after all this time? Fine.â Kara stepped away from the counter, her voice shaking. âYou never loved him. Not for one second.â
âStop it.â Rosemaryâs voice had taken on a steely undertone.
âHow could you love my dad if you believed what they said in that report? It was a
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